As I await my destiny, the curiosity of my being gets to me.
At first I see the silhouettes who have my life grasped in their hands,
Then I glance at the seven figures of hope.
Their light seems so comforting for a moment.
Suddenly, the burning of their flames has the most deadly effect on my spirit.
This antagonism is really getting to me.
O sweet dear freedom, when will our paths cross once more?
O sweet dear hallucination, when will you leave my soul?
Maybe I can be at rest and console with peace at my death?
Or maybe the darkness will harm my mind and detach me from sanity?
The fear of my voice
The fear of darkness
The abhorrence of agitation
The angst of anxiety
The fear of torture
The fear of fearâ?¦
And now I have reached the dungeon of my doom.
I am surrounding a pit of decomposition whoâ??s echo makes me shiver.
I am surrounded by living monsters who will chew at my being at any sign of weakness.
I am surrounded by a swinging knifeâ?¦
At first, I am in awe of its movement.
Then suddenly, the swing of terror begins to control mind.
My constant war with the pendulum and its trance over my being is growing.
It is slowly approaching me by the minute.
This abstract animosity is coming to life.
My enmity with the knife in inflicting my body.
O Lord, what I would give to allay my pain once again...
